Chapter 11
Part 7
"The Seraphim Return"
Setting: Early morning mist over the capital. Bells ring. Rumors fly.
"They're back."
"The Crown Prince and Princess are in the capital."
"No… not in the Palace. The Seraphim Duchy."
At the Imperial Palace: A Sliver of Relief
Officials scramble, nobles rush to the court with stacks of unfinished work. Exhausted ministers exhale with relief, thinking:
"They've returned. Finally—someone to carry this mountain of labor."
Except...
They haven't. Not fully.
Adrien and Ophelia stay in the Seraphim Duchy. Their entire aide network returns, fully refreshed—young knights, seasoned clerks, secretaries, financiers—and the capital instantly feels it.
Reports are processed again.
Diplomats are answered.
Crisis papers start disappearing from desks.
But Adrien and Ophelia? Nowhere.
Adrien and Ophelia: Soft Power, Maximum Impact
They reopen all closed places: salons, galleries, cafes, academies, parks.
The city breathes again.
But they remain out of sight, almost mythical—no announcements, no court appearances.
They don't even claim credit.
Their people just work. Fast. Flawless. Without direction.
Chaeri's Response: Frustration Turns to Paranoia
Chaeri (watching from her window): They're mocking me.
Her maid: My lady… they've reopened every salon. Should I send out invitations?
Chaeri: No. No! They're setting a trap. It's too quiet.
She tries:
Spreads a rumor about Adrien mishandling military funds—disproved in hours.
Suggests Ophelia used poison to make the Emperor ill—laughed off by physicians loyal to Seraphim.
Writes a pamphlet to discredit them—no one reads it.
Every manipulation is snuffed out before it begins.
Worse: She has no idea what Adrien and Ophelia are doing.
Enter Killian: The Spark of War
Killian is assigned to report to the Duchy for diplomatic reasons. The Emperor—who has refused to send a summons to Adrien out of pride—sends Killian instead.
He arrives at the Seraphim Duchy's manor:
Towering gates.
Seraphim banners.
Calm servants.
Deadly silence.
Killian (gritting his teeth): I'm here to negotiate. On behalf of the Empire.
But the guards tell him politely: The Crown Prince is tending to the hounds. The Crown Princess is in the conservatory. They have declined all formal audiences.
Killian (furious): They declined the Empire?!
He stays anyway. He's not leaving.
Killian vs Chaeri: Fire Meets Ice
Meanwhile, in the capital—
Chaeri: Killian. You've spoken to them. What did they say?
Killian (coldly): They said nothing. I've been in that house for two days and all I've received is tea and silence.
Chaeri (biting): Useless.
Killian (smirking): You're the one who drove them out.
Chaeri (mocking): And you're the one who couldn't even get a second audience.
Their voices sharpen.
Chaeri (accusing): You've always admired Adrien. Even now, you want his approval.
Killian: I want order. Not obsession.
Chaeri (low): Then stop hovering around my plans.
Killian (stepping closer): Stop mistaking your sabotage for strategy.
For a beat—tension crackles.
They hate each other.
They want to win.
But deep down, they're the only ones left in this political storm.
The Dance Begins
That night, Killian finds a handwritten note slipped under his door:
"You could have warned me the hounds were trained to chase uninvited guests.
—C."
He laughs, for the first time in weeks.
He writes back:
"You could have dressed less like a traitor. They're excellent judges of character. —K."
Enemies? Definitely.
But something far more dangerous is about to start.